


comfort

by simplyclockwork



Series: Tumblr Inspired/Prompted Sherlock Fics - Part One [30]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:40:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22244227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplyclockwork/pseuds/simplyclockwork
Summary: Requested by @fandomchaospost on tumblr from the prompt:"Okay, what are you doing in a spiderman onesie in my bedroom?"
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: Tumblr Inspired/Prompted Sherlock Fics - Part One [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1528859
Comments: 8
Kudos: 93





	comfort

A noise in the dark pulled John away from the restless grip of nightmare-filled slumber. Sitting up, he blinked as light spilled from the cracked open door of the bedroom. A shape shifted in the dark, blocking the illumination, and he squinted. “Sherlock?” The shadow nodded, morphing into Sherlock’s tall form as John’s eyes adjusted to the dark. “Everything okay?” he asked, shifting his back up against the headboard as he reached over to turn on the bedside lamp. He paused, frowning as he took in Sherlock’s appearance. His curly hair was a tangled mass atop his head, his eyes were dark with fatigue and the haze of sleep, and he was wearing… “Why are you wearing—” John shook his head, snorting. “Okay, what are you doing in a Spiderman onesie in my bedroom?”

Sherlock’s bottom lip pushed out in a pout. “It’s a long story.”

John snorted again. “They always are.” He tilted his head, looking Sherlock over again. “Are you okay?”

Sherlock stepped closer to the bed, hands fidgeting. “You were crying out, in your sleep,” he replied, eyes looking anywhere but at John. “I wanted to make sure there wasn’t a crisis.”

John looked away, pressing his fist lightly into the pillow. “Just nightmares,” he muttered, letting out a long, slow sigh.

Silence filled the room, and Sherlock shifted on his bare feet. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak. “Ah, John, if you’re okay, I’ll go,” he began, falling silent as John spoke over him at the same time.

“You could stay... if you want.” John’s face flushed red as he realized what Sherlock had begun to say. “Er, I mean…never mind.” Clicking off the light and rolling onto his side, John pulled the blanket to his chin, pushing his face into the mattress. “Goodnight, Sherlock.”

More silence. Then, muttered in the dark, “Idiot.” The mattress dipped, and a warm, lean form slipped up against John’s back. Sherlock’s long limbs wrapped around him: a leg shoved between his and an arm draped over his waist. Sherlock’s breath tickled over the back of his neck, and John shivered at the strangely intimate sensation. They were both quiet, but John knew Sherlock was still awake. His breathing was too quick, and his fingers traced aimless shapes over the skin of John’s stomach. John sucked in a loud gasp when he realized he had been holding his breath.

“So,” he began, craving noise in the suddenly electrified space. “Why _do_ you have a Spiderman onesie?”

Sherlock laughed, a soft puff of air against John’s skin. “I bought it for a case,” he muttered, pressing his cold nose into the back of John’s shoulder. “That case with the comic book characters that ‘came to life.’” He sighed, stretching out his long legs until they were pressed together from Sherlock’s chest to his feet. “I bought it in case we needed to attend a convention, but it was never necessary.”

“Right…” John hummed, shifting as Sherlock’s arm slipped under his head. John rested his cheek against the crook of Sherlock’s elbow, heart racing. “So... why are you wearing it _now_?” Sherlock didn’t respond at first, and John could almost hear his agitation. “Sherlock?”

A loud huff of air over his ear. “I spilled something on my usual sleepwear,” Sherlock finally muttered, sounding very put out. John chuckled.

“What, no spares?”

Another loud huff, “In the wash.”

John grinned and wiggled into the warm heat against his back. “Mm, okay, Spiderman.”

He could almost hear Sherlock’s scowl in the dark and laughed. With Sherlock’s warm hand settled along the curve of his stomach, John closed his eyes and drifted into a nightmare-free sleep.


End file.
